


Bad Luck

by InCahootsWithTheDwarves



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Talk of homelessness, Unrelated Fíli and Kíli, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InCahootsWithTheDwarves/pseuds/InCahootsWithTheDwarves
Summary: What seems like a turn of bad luck for both Fíli and Kíli will unexpectedly bring them together and prove to be healing.
Relationships: Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23
Collections: GatheringFiKi - Winter FRE 2020





	Bad Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to gatheringfiki’s Winter FRE 2020. Prompt 26: Person A gets off work late at night to find a stranger (Person B) sleeping in his car (something fancy, Range Rover, Bentley, Porsche SUV, etc.) because it was below 0F and he had nowhere to go.  
> This was originally posted on Tumblr in time for the raffle closing deadline, but took me a while to finally post it here.

The darkness had long shrouded the world outside the windows of Fíli’s office. Even though the temperatures have now fallen below freezing, there was no snow in sight. The worst type of weather the winter had to offer; both cold and dark. Fíli had been looking at the last of today’s papers to prepare for tomorrow’s meetings, everybody else long gone. He rubbed his eyes and caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the darkened glass of his iMac. The man that returned his gaze looked tired. He always stayed this late, his dedication to his business being both the reason for success, and the loneliness of his hours spent outside of the building near the corner of 25th and Broadway, part of which his office occupied. Still, he didn’t mind, other than an occasional heart pang that he dismissed. He liked what he did, had friends (well, a circle of people he ran into on a regular basis at networking events) and didn’t need any other source of validation. Not that he wasn’t approached by people regularly. Fíli’s mind wandered to the girl he often bumped into during his lunch break picking up a sandwich at one of the coffee shops occupying the first floors; she must be working at one of the local businesses. A bright ready smile on her face, she was cheerful and pretty. He could ask her out. But there was always another thing, another great plan, another milestone to achieve. One day he’ll sort out his love life. But for now he had to make sure he leaves his mark on the world.

Jotting down the last of the briefing points for the morning meeting on a post-it note, Fíli closed his laptop with a thud and stuck the note on top to see it first thing tomorrow. Finishing everything planned with meticulous detail made him tired, but content; he felt like he earned it to go home.

He braced against the cold air as he swung open the heavy door of the building’s entrance. His Range Rover was parked just across the street. A few familiar steps and he’s by the car’s door.

\---------------------------------------------

Kíli was cold. Not that he was ever warm these days, but tonight especially. It was the first really cold night of the season. It made him think how many more to come. Is he going to last through it? It’s only been three days, but already felt like a lifetime. Maybe that was fitting, since this life was nothing like the one he used to live. When his landlord came in, with a couple of buddies for reinforcement, to kick him out, it felt unreal. After all, he threatened to kick him out before, but it always worked out. Either Kíli got paid some back payment from one of the clients, or a friend offered to help. This time, no clients with late payments or kind friends came to rescue. He supposed it was only fair. He didn’t receive any commissions in the last month, and some of his friends (or most of them?) grew tired of lending him money. But what else could he do? Not give up on his lifetime’s work, surely. He always thought, “This next one is going to be the breakthrough.” But now it was all over, right. No more delusions. The world has narrowed down to finding the next warm(ish) place to sleep. He still had a bit of cash for food, but how long till that runs out. He didn’t even get a chance to grab his stuff; just the clothes on his back and the piece he was working on at the moment. Luckily, his other works were at the storage unit. The storage unit. Damn. He’d have to somehow pay for that, or else lose that too.

The first night he pulled it off and managed to catch some sleep at Penn Station, as if he had an early morning train to take. He didn’t fancy doing the same thing twice in a row, lest he attract attention. He didn’t want to spend whatever little money he had on a motel room either. So the next night he went to the storage facility hoping to sleep in the storage unit with his paintings. He didn’t realize there’d be guards though. It was a specialized art-storage facility, not your regular warehouse. It would look very suspicious if he went in at night and didn’t come out till morning.

So he ended up whiling the night away at a 24-hour diner, catching bits of interrupted restless sleep. Not an enjoyable experience.

Afterwards, he took his usual morning shift at the coffee shop, hoping no one would notice his lack of sleep and a general state of dishevelment. He felt like there was a sign burning above his head, “Homeless! Homeless!” He hadn’t had a shower in a few days and was starting to look less like an average respectable citizen. He did what he could, splashing water on his face and putting his unruly curls in a man bun. He’d have to find a way to clean himself though, and soon, if he wanted to hold down his job. Of course, there were shelters. But he didn’t want to cross that threshold, didn’t want to go there, even in his head. It felt like if he did, that would be it; he could no longer pretend this wasn’t his life now.

Tonight, he was out again, searching for options. Luck didn’t seem to be on his side. Why was he even in this part of town, how did he end up wandering here. Looking for what. The friends he used to go to see Broadway shows with or hang out with at the local cafes during better days? Maybe pretend to bump into one of them, ask if he could crash for the night. He wasn’t ready to admit that to himself, even though he has spent a better part of the evening lingering around the area. Desperation grew. He just kept walking when his eyes caught on a large black car, one of the few left parked near the sidewalk. He imagined how it would be like curling up in the back, not super comfortable, but sheltered from the biting cold at least. Later he couldn’t explain to himself why he did it, it was obvious that it would be locked. And yet he found himself reaching for the handle and, with a soft ‘click’, the door was open. Kíli froze, feeling panic rising within, but then exhaustion and cold that seemed to seep into his bones took over. He looked around for the potential owner, but the street was deserted at this hour. Who could just leave their car like that out here? He was too tired though to ponder that question further, so he slid in the backseat and stretched out tiredly as much as the space allowed. “I’ll just catch some sleep for a few hours and then keep moving. No one will be the wiser,” he thought to himself.

\---------------------------------------------

Fíli settled in the driver’s seat. A rustle came from the back, before a voice spoke “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…“ Fíli’s yelp drowned out the rest of the sentence as he jumped in his seat, then whipped around to see an unfamiliar man staring at him wide-eyed from the back seat. “What the hell?! Who are you? What are you doing in my car? How did you get in?”

“Please, I didn’t mean to scare you, or intrude, or any of this to happen. It was unlocked actually. I-I just… I had nowhere to sleep tonight,” the stranger rambled. The look on his face was beyond apologetic. 

Unlocked. Did he say it was unlocked? The car key has been acting up lately. Not beeping, even though the doors were locked. Or beeping, but the doors would end up not locked. He thought of swinging by the car shop this morning to get it checked out and fixed, but got sidetracked by an urgent issue at work.

He must have forgotten to check that the doors were locked after parking this morning! Did his car really sit there all day, with the doors open? Lucky enough no one tried to steal it! “Not so lucky, if there’s actually a stranger currently occupying the back seat,” he retorted to himself in an inner monologue that flashed through his brain in a matter of a second.

Fíli flipped the light on to take a better look at the intruder. A wild mess of dark curls, a three-day old stubble, a t-shirt, dark pants and a denim jacket; not dressed for the cold weather outside. But other than that he didn’t look like he was on the streets for long. Fíli couldn’t help noticing how beautiful the other man’s hazel eyes were. And not just the eyes. His whole form. Strong, wide shoulders, a stretch of dark chest hair showing above the neck of his t-shirt, full lips, facial features that belonged on a cover of a magazine. “Perfect timing for these kinds of thoughts, well done,” Fíli told himself. He’s supposed to be angry at the guy, not ogling him!

“Even if it were unlocked, you had no right to just invite yourself inside!”

“I’m really sorry. I’m going. Please don’t call the cops or anything. I’m leaving,” the stranger opened the door and was halfway out of the car.

“Wait.”

\---------------------------------------------

Kíli tensed at the call and slowly returned to his place. He studied the man in the driver’s seat, waiting for him to speak.

Short waves of wheat blonde hair in a stylish haircut. Expensive suit under a black dawn jacket, an even more expensive watch and well-groomed hands. Strong though, with prominent veins. Closely trimmed beard that accentuated his sensuous lips. And the eyes. The lovely blue eyes that were now fixed on his own.

“Aren’t there places… Places you can stay at?” asked the blonde.

“For people like me, you mean?”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” the man paused, before speaking again, “But that’s surely better than hurling yourself into other people’s cars?”

“Because it’s temporary! I’ll find a way out!” Kíli couldn’t help but raise his voice. He was not about to be lectured by this man, with his luxury watch and his big car. What did he know of hardship anyway. “I’m not some drunkard or a drug user. I just fell on hard times.”

The other man seemed to take a moment to ponder Kíli’s words before asking, “What happened then, why are you in this situation?” Now that he regained his composure, he spoke in a pleasant baritone, his voice thoughtful and calm.

“What seems to be happening to this generation all around. Was late on a rent payment, got kicked out. Had no safety net,” Kíli paused. “You think you’re immune? Even if you do seem to be doing well for yourself. We’re all one wrong turn away from a catastrophe.”

“You could get a job.”

“I already have a job. That just about covers all my other expenses. And I need time to actually work on my art, if I hope to keep doing it. It’s volatile, one moment you’re there, another you’re gone,” Kíli explained, his dark gaze fierce and his deep voice vibrating with emotion.

“You’re an artist then?” a curious light shone in the blonde’s eyes. “Is this one of your pieces?” he added, pointing at the wrapped-up rectangle in Kíli’s hand.

Kíli nodded curtly, his expression still sullen and brows furrowed.

“Can I have a look?” there was no mockery in the man’s voice, only interest.

Kíli hesitated for a moment, before slowly unwrapping the frame and passing it on to his unlikely art critic.

The blonde man stretched out his hand and took the offered piece gingerly. His gaze roamed over the artwork, taking it in.

\---------------------------------------------

Fíli was no art expert, but something about the painting drew him in. It was an abstract piece, but not so abstract as to not make out the outlines of two bodies intertwined together. Rough lines and surprisingly, splashes of watercolor on top, shades of blue and brown. Whoever did this was clearly talented. There was passion in them, the man and the woman. Their faces reflected a mutual longing, a deep-seated need. It’s amazing how such seemingly chaotic lines can come together to show emotion.

The thought made him realize that it’s been a while since he himself felt. Anything.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “If the rest of your work is like this, it should be out there, showcased in the best galleries.”

“Yeah, well. Life’s unfair that way,” the brunet scoffed. “I better go,” and he motioned to retrieve the painting.

Fíli paused for a brief moment, making up his mind. Finally he spoke, returning the painting. “No. You’re staying at my place. Tonight at least. We shall see about tomorrow.”

The dark-haired man looked stunned for a second. “A-are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?” Fíli’s tone was stern, but there was a hint of good-natured humor in it, and a smile was hiding in the corners of his luscious lips and bright blue eyes.

The stranger grinned, his expression changing from one of fierce intensity to a sunlit smile, as if someone flipped a switch. “No, certainly not. I’m Kílian, by the way. Kíli for short,” he stuck out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Kíli. Call me Fíli,” Fíli accepted the outstretched hand for a firm shake, before turning to face the wheel. “Let’s get you to warmth then.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Kíli responded, the happy grin never leaving his face.


End file.
